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Married Life

 I can tell how my husband's work is going. If the day has been fruitful, he returns home crowing about artificial intelligence. "You wouldn't believe it! What this tech can do...I'm starting to understand why all the new AI factories require so much energy....and produce so much pollution!"


If the work is not going well, then my daughter sometimes finds herself in the crosshairs. "You're squirming too much," says my spouse to his child. I know something is off when Marc--eminently sensible--suggests to a Pre-K student that she is "squirming too much."

The other night, like Marge Simpson, I made some tough choices. My daughter had devoured a bag of spicy Doritos right before bed--so, at 2am, she spat up a stream of gooey orange liquid. I ministered to her needs without my glasses, and I briefly told myself that she had coughed up blood. I was suddenly in a garret, tending to Mimi in "La Boheme." This frightened me; by instinct, I dragged my daughter up to my own bed. A war erupted between Susie and Marc. I then retreated to the living room--but the branches of a tree were scraping a front window in a certain way. I persuaded myself that the branches were in fact the John Gallagher character from the horror film "Hush." John Gallagher was lurking by the door; he was preparing to "gut" me with his hunting knife.

My final bad choice was not to laugh this off--but, instead, to have a small tantrum, which accomplished little or nothing. Emotional "cleanup" was later required.

And life goes on.
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  1. AnonymousAugust 18, 2025 at 8:18 AM

    As you know, I love how wonderfully you write. I was particularly captivated by today's very intimate -- and delightfully so -- description of your life with our beloved Marc. Love to you both !

    ReplyDelete

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